Colin Creevey and the Son of Batman
by farfromrefuge
Summary: On the September 1, 1992, Colin Creevey went to Hogwarts, to study magic and become a true wizard. Also, so did Damian Wayne. And now the two unlikely friends will have to stop a fraudulent professor, solve a mystery of Luna Lovegood and find out, what dark secret hides in the opening passage of the Ravenclaw Code. CoS AU. No Slash.
1. Chapter 1: Trainride to Hogwarts

_All the characters belong to J. K. Rowling and DC Comics. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson created by Bill Finger and Jerry Robinson, Damian Wayne created by Grant Morrison. Nothing here belongs to me._

Chapter 1

TRAINRIDE TO HOGWARTS

Platform 9 ¾, Kings Cross, London, was an unusual place. In fact, mentioning its number would incredibly confuse any machinist or high-ranking official on the aforementioned station. But it would only be par for the course, after all, they were not the ones to ask.

Instead, you should be talking to the servicemen, or, even better, to the humble UK policemen that can still be found all over the place any time the number of travellers exceeds the station's capacity (hint: beginning of the school year will definitely do). And not the young ones either. But if you meet one of the older, more experienced ones, at the pub, and buy them a drink or five, and casually mention the platform, then maybe, just maybe they will tell you of this urban legend. Of a place, that some weirdos have been asking about for as long as the London police can remember, usually mentioned alongside other weirdos' places like Hogwarts and Hogsmead. Of crowds of people that seem to adore the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 every time it's time to send children to school. Some policemen even swear that they saw some people walk through this barrier! Not that anyone believed them – how can people walk through metal bars? And where would they go? Nonsense, of course, not worthy of attention of a proper Englishman.

And that's where they would be wrong. For Platform 9 ¾ has indeed existed as long as the station itself, and it indeed is located beyond the metal bar barrier that separates platforms 9 and 10. But only very few people can go through it. Wizards, people used to call them, before they became a legend even more obscure than the platform itself. But they are still among us, and some are even born in normal English families. Like the one, that on the quite fateful day of September 1, 1992 was trying to inconspicuously go to the barrier.

* * *

'I'm going to Hogwarts!'

'Quiet, Colin! Professor Sprout told you not to talk, and certainly not to scream about it!'

'Sorry, mom…'

A boy was… well, if one were to come up with a description, words nerdy and goofy would be atop of the list. But such expressions may not be specific enough, so let this boy instead be short, thin, blond, with a huge smile on his face and wide open brown eyes. His face was not handsome – although, to his defence, not a lot of boys are handsome at the age of eleven. He looked alright, just like many other boys all over Britain. He was wearing a woollen dark red sweater, for the autumn had already claimed its rights from dying summer, and a pair of jeans that had been obviously bought with an intention for him to grow into them. On his feet were worn, but obviously loved sneakers, and behind himself he was dragging a trunk. An actual wooden trunk, with two small wheels at the back. No wonder, that some people stared at the family, causing his mother a severe amount of distress.

The mother herself had the same blond hair, but her eyes were grey and they shone with pride when she looked at her sons. She wasn't particularly pretty and certainly not beautiful, but she obviously took care of herself, even though dark circles under her eyes were visible even through make-up. In her right hand she held a camera case, with a Polaroid camera inside, while in her left was another hand. The hand belonged to a dark-haired boy, a little smaller than the first one. The boy obediently walked alongside his mother, although he constantly looked around, taking in the impressive size of the station and magnificent, elegant shapes of locomotives. He looked astonished, but a little bit sad too.

Finally, through an elaborate set of manoeuvres, that would have tipped off any competent surveillance (had it been surveying them in the first place), family reached the barrier. The woman, looking (and, most likely, feeling) incredibly foolish, touched it with a tip of her fingers. For less than a second she felt a cold smoothness of metal, and then her hand went through, and she let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. She quickly pulled her hand out, flashed a shining smile at her elder son and made a welcoming gesture, allowing him to go first into the world he now belonged to. Colin immediately sped up and practically rammed the barrier, immediately vanishing from sight. His mother and brother swiftly followed him, only to almost bump into his trunk – the boy froze at the edge of a platform full of people, with a distinguished-looking red-and-black train on the rails.

Colin slowly turned his wide open eyes to his mother, and she laughed before nodding.

'I'M GOING TO HOGWARTS!'

* * *

'Sorry, madam! So sorry! Sir, could you please let us pass?'

A big cigar-puffing man, with a gut that would make a whale jealous, looked around, chuckled and moved to the side, letting through a family of three. A bony old witch, that was accidentally pushed aside by the elder kid a moment ago, hummed under her nose something about "ignorant mudbloods", but kept the rest of her opinion to herself. As she thanked the man, Elisa Creevey also thanked God for small mercies – she had been shouted at today more, than in any other day in her life. It appeared to be, that witches and wizards were not entirely welcoming sort.

So, it took a while for them to shuffle through the crowd, but eventually they finally made it. Trying not to cry, she hugged her elder, kissed him on the top of his head and helped him load his trunk on the train. That is, tried to help him load his trunk on the train. Despite the combined forces of two middle-schoolers and a mailwoman, heavy standard issued Hogwarts trunk continued to stay earthbound.

'Hey, let me give it a shot!'

The help arrived from an unexpected angle – from behind Colin, who was currently trying to pull the trunk on the train, while Dennis and Elisa pushed it from the ground. A dark-haired man in his late twenties, dressed in all black, moved Colin aside and practically on his own dragged the trunk on the train, before jumping down on the platform.

'And that's how it's done!' proudly announced the stranger, after Colin placed the trunk back on the wheels. 'First time to Hogwarts?'

'Yes.' nodded Elisa with hesitation. 'Unfortunately our father was at work today…' The stranger nodded in understanding and she smiled, a little embarrassed. 'Thank you! I don't know how would I do this otherwise!'

'Don't bother,' waved it off the stranger. 'Us newbs have to stick together. I just put my younger brother in.'

He thought about something for a moment, and turned to Colin. 'Actually, he is in the third compartment, and there are free seats, if you want to.'

Colin uncertainly looked at his mom, who smiled and nodded, before handing Colin his camera. The boy grabbed it, put it on his neck and immediately rushed through the corridor, dragging the trunk behind him. The third compartment was easy to find, and soon enough Colin opened a wooden door with a blurry glass window in the middle of it, and stuck his lop-eared head inside.

The compartment was rather small – two benches and two shelves, one each at each side of the room, and a small table in the centre. The room was completely empty, except for a short – even shorter than Colin! – dark-haired boy, sitting near the window with a book in front of his face. The boy didn't acknowledge Colin's presence in any way, so Creevey, after a couple of seconds, cleared his throat and spoke, trying to sound like his mother minutes ago.

'Excuse me, can I sit here?'

'No.'

Boy's voice was cold and dismissive. Colin, though, completely ignored its tone and frowned in concern.

'But the guy on the platform said…'

'T-T.' The boy lifted his eyes from the book and turned to Creevey. 'The guy on the platform said…' he sing-sang with a mocking tone. 'What guy on the…'

Suddenly, the book closed with a thundering SNAP!, and the short boy stared in the distance for a second. 'Damn you, Grayson!'. The boy eyed Colin again, cringed like he just took a bite on a lemon and took a deep breath.

'I am sorry; you can sit here. I apologize for my previous behaviour. I have been very stressed lately, but from now on, I will try not to let it affect the others.'

'O-O-K.' uncertainly said Colin and quickly dragged his trunk in, before propping it near a bench and closing the door. When he looked back at his companion, the boy was already back to his book. The cover was in some alphabet Colin couldn't read, so instead he rushed to the window and tried to find mother and Dennis in the sea of people outside. He failed, and sat on the bench opposite to the weird boy, full of momentary disappointment. It didn't last, and soon he was squirming in his seat, eager for something to do. The other boy sat completely quietly and unmoving, except for an occasional turn of the page.

'You don't really want me here, do you?' finally asked Colin.

The boy closed the book and stared at him. His eyes were grey, but unlike Colin's mother's eyes, these were cold. Finally, the eyes closed, the boy took another deep breath and started speaking.

'My brother is under the illusion, that I have a lack of friends in my life. Thus, when it was time for me to leave here, he and Father made me promise, that I will try to be a better person while at school. And Grayson seems to think, that the train counts too. So, to answer your question – I do want you here, if only because I made a promise.'

Colin frowned. The condescending and off-putting tone made breaches even in his optimism and excitement, but Colin knew a thing or two about lacking friends himself.

'You don't have any friends, do you?', he asked quietly, emphasizing "any".

The boy started to answer, but then the train shook, whistled and started slowly moving, passing by the platform. Colin immediately hugged the window, and started waving at his mother, who noticed him and started waving back. The dark-haired stranger, whom his new companion called Grayson, was standing by her side, and waved at his brother too, with a smug, but genuine smile. Colin's neighbour stared at him for a moment, but then slammed his open palm to the window. A second later, the train finally passed the platform and started slowly gaining speed, moving through the city of London to the north.

Colin, embarrassed by his jumping around, climbed down from the table and sat back at the same place. His neighbour, though, looked completely unfazed.

'I have some friends. They are just…' the weird boy searched for a word for a second. 'away.'

'Mine are away too,' sighed Colin, 'At least I have my camera.' He popped the case open and pulled the Polaroid out. 'Want to have your picture taken?'

The boy looked at the camera uncertainly. 'Is it magic?'

Colin shook his head. 'Nah. It used to be my dad's, he let me take it with me to school. I want to take a picture with Harry Potter! Maybe he will even sign it…' he continued in dreamy voice.

'Harry Potter…' said the boy slowly.

'That's right!' happily agreed Colin. 'Did you know that he saved the whole Wizarding World as a child and defeated You-Know-Who? I have a whole book on him!'

The boy immediately perked up. 'You-Know-Who?'

'No…' wrinkled his brow in confusion Colin. 'Harry Potter! Why would I want a book on You-Know-Who?'

'Never mind,' sighed the boy. 'By the way, yes, I would like a picture.' He smiled and offered Colin a hand. 'Damian Wayne.'

Colin shook it. 'Colin Creevey.' He propped the camera to his eye and aimed it at the other boy.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment opened. Wayne turned around, raising his hands in some weird position, just as Colin's fingers slipped, clicking the camera's shutter. A small photocard popped out of the camera and slowly floated on the table, but both Colin and Damian were too busy watching the newcomers – two girls around their age. They didn't have their luggage, were already wearing the school robes, and seemed to sport a very worried look on their faces.

'Sorry…' said the taller one in embarrassment. 'We are looking for our friends – two second years, one with black hair, other one with red. They would have a white owl with them…' she ended rather lamely.

Colin shrugged and shook his head. Wayne closed his eyes, opened them and shook his head too. 'No. Moreover, I'm not sure they were even on the platform. Were they alone?'

'They were with me,' quickly said the other, shorter, girl. 'Me and my family.'

'I saw you,' nodded Wayne, closing his eyes in concentration. 'You and five other redheads entered the platform ten minutes before the train departed. No black-haired boy, though, and certainly no white owl.'

The girls looked at each other. 'Five…' whispered the smaller one in confusion, before her eyes widened in shock. 'They didn't cross the barrier!'

The other one nervously fixed her brown hair (that immediately returned to the same shape), nodded and looked at Wayne. 'Photographic memory?'

'Full eidetic,' corrected the boy with a hint of smugness in his voice.

'Alright…' the girl turned back to her companion. 'Ginny, get back to your compartment. I'll find Percy and we will see what to do next.'

'No,' Ginny stubbornly shook her head. 'I'm with you.'

'Fine.' The older girl sighed and turned to the boys. 'Thank you both. I'm Hermione, second year Gryffindor. Find me if you need anything.'

With that, she closed the door and ran down the corridor, the redhead at her side.

'That was… weird,' finally said Damian after a couple of seconds. Colin nodded and picked up the card. The Wayne on the image had his arms at his chest height, one in front of the other, with open palms towards the door. He looked almost relaxed, except for his eyes that were extremely focused. Colin stared at it for a second, shrugged and passed the card to the other boy, who accepted it with a quiet "Thanks."

'What's "eidetic"?' asked Colin, while Wayne was studying the picture with a small smile on his face.

'I remember everything I see, hear, smell or sense in any other way.' Damian opened his book and placed the photograph in-between the pages. 'I'll send it to Father, if you don't mind.'

'It's yours,' shrugged Colin. 'Wait. Everything?'

Wayne nodded. 'Absolutely. From the moment of my birth.'

Colin smirked. 'No wonder you are kind of a jerk…'

When he looked up, Wayne stared at him with a weird expression on his face. For a second Colin was afraid that the other boy was going to hit him, but then Wayne burst into loud laughter.

'I'm sorry…' he finally managed to say. 'Most people I know are used to me. I'll try not to be one, OK?'

'OK.' smiled Colin. He offered an open hand to Damian, 'Friends?'

Wayne grabbed it without hesitation. 'Friends. You already know in what House you are going be in?'

As the English countryside in the window was slowly replaced with Scottish landscapes, two eleven-year-old boys talked about Hogwarts, magic and wonders that were waiting for them. At some point Colin produced a deck of playing cards, but they were soon discarded in favour of the sweets that were being sold by a kind witch with a trolley. Neither of them noticed an invisible flying car that had been trailing the train, or how the car was approached by an equally invisible, thin, and remarkably Scottish woman on a broom. And boy, was she not it a good mood.

* * *

'Look! There, see? It must be Hogsmead!'

Colin had been attached to the window for the last fifteen minutes, after both boys had gotten tired of talking, trying to do magic (Wayne managed to levitate a chocolate frog wrap for a second or two, before somehow setting it on fire), and even eating. To be fair, chocolate frogs and Berty Botts All-Flavour Beans still amused Colin, but he didn't think his stomach could take much more, so he had pocketed the remaining packages with an intention to finish them later.

'Seems like it. We'd better change.' said Wayne, closing his book and reaching under his bench to retrieve his own trunk. It was slimmer than Colin's and looked to be made out of some dark wood, in contrast to usual oak, with a silver ornament on the lid. The boy popped the lid open and retrieved a small package, before closing the trunk and locking it down with an elaborate set of latches.

Colin, who had already retrieved his uniform from the side compartment of his own trunk and was currently putting it on, slightly rose his eyebrows. 'Where did you get this trunk? Me and my dad hadn't seen anything like it in Diagon Alley!'

'Same place I got my everything.' Damian pulled a set of folded robes out of the package. To Colin's surprise, they were a bit blacker than his own and seemed to slightly reflect the light. Wayne carelessly threw them on and continued, 'Mage's Emporium in New York.'

'You are American?', asked Colin, opening the door. Somehow, the matter of their place of origin never arose between the boys, even if they did talk about their families. For example, Colin knew that Damian's dad ran a family business.

'Yes.' eloquently as usual answered the other boy, pulling his wand from his trousers and placing it in his robe's waist pocket.

Colin nodded and looked out in the corridor. After four hours with Wayne, the fact that he was American was just yet another weirdness about his new friend, and Colin had better things to worry about. As far as he could see, other students started leaving their compartments too, but no one seemed to carry their luggage with them. He uncertainly looked at his own trunk and shrugged, before walking up to a closest senior student, who happened to be a tall boy with a red tie and a head full of braids.

'Excuse me, can you tell me what to do with the luggage?'

The boy looked down at him and smiled.

'First years?'

Colin nodded. Boy's smile a little bit widened.

'Well, you are supposed to send them to school.'

Colin wrinkled his eyebrow. Boy's eyes grew larger, as he pressed his hand to his heart.

'Oh, dear… Don't tell me you haven't bought a magic trunk!'

Colin shook his head, bewildered.

'Oh, no. Well, now you will have to drag it to the castle yourself,' boy sighed, 'and to think you could have been like me, and bought a living trunk…'

'Is it by any chance made out of wood from a sapient pear?' asked a girl's voice from behind the boy. The owner of the voice sounded curious, yet she also definitely was fighting a giggle.

'Crap…' whispered the braided boy before turning around with a huge smile on his face. 'Hi, Penelope, fancy meeting you here! I was helping this firstie, you know, doing my senior duty…'

The girl – much taller than the boy, with a head full of blonde hair and an extremely contagious smile – nodded alongside his words, and suddenly winked at Colin.

'Jordan?' sweetly asked the girl, when the owner of the living trunk stopped to gasp for air.

'Yes?' immediately answered the boy, slightly stepping back and bracing for impact.

'Disappear.' finished the girl in the same sweet voice.

The boy hastily nodded and complied, squeezing his body in-between Colin and the wall. Penelope followed him with a stern gaze, before looking at bewildered Colin and erupting with laughter.

'I'm sorry...' she started, but then snorted again. Finally, she took a deep breath and smiled at Colin. 'Penelope Clearwater, Prefect of Ravenclaw. That was Lee Jordan – our homegrown comedian. If he starts messing with you again – find Percy Weasley in Gryffindor, he is his Prefect and will set him straight. Got it?'

Colin nodded and unsurely smiled back. Penelope slightly ruffled his hair and started walking to the other side of the train, before clasping herself on the forehead and turning around. 'Oh, and you leave the trunk here, on the train. Hogwarts's elves will get it into your room after sorting.'

'Thanks!' shouted back Colin, before going back to his compartment. 'We leave the trunks here.' he said to Damian, who curtly nodded and turned to the window, studying the village of Hogsmead. The train was currently passing a hill, and thus the village could be seen in its entirety – three parallel streets and a couple of alleys, that seemed completely deserted this autumn evening. 'We will be there in five minutes or so.' he said quietly. Colin nodded back, even if his companion couldn't see it.

'Do you know anything about elves?' asked Colin, checking if he had everything he needed in his pockets.

Wayne looked to the sky for a second and shrugged. 'Tolkien, Salvatore…'

'No,' snorted Colin. 'Hogwarts's elves. Penelope said, that they will move our trunks to our rooms.'

Damian looked back to Colin and scratched his own head. 'Maybe... Didn't notice it back then, but I heard someone say something. Who's Penelope?'

'Prefect of Ravenclaw. She seemed nice.'

Wayne bit his lip for a second, before slowly nodding.

'Also, who's Salvatore?' asked Colin,

Wayne smirked before turning back to the window. 'I'll lend you a book.'

* * *

 **This story had been in my backburner for a long, long while. It slowly transformed from "Young Bruce in James Potter's year" to a "Robin (I think, I tried everyone) in Harry's year", to "Damian Wayne in Ginny's year". Chronologically, this story is set around a year and a half after his expulsion from Gotham Academy and around a year after his atonement journey and We Are Robin. I hope, this explains why Damian is less of a jerk.**

 **The story this year is going to focus on basilisk and The Chamber of Secrets, but Colin and Damian will approach it from a different angle and without any meaningful interaction with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Same thing with Batfamily - asides from Dick's cameo in this chapter, you won't see them in long time.**

 **Also, don't expect a lot of romance. This isn't going to be slash, and I'm a proud sailor on USS Waynoguchi, although currently for them it's just friendship. But even if I add any actual romance - this won't happen until at least OoTP.**

 **This world doesn't have Superman, Green Lantern or any other heavy hitters, even though I love them all. Batman and other heroes are urban legends. Ra's al Ghul and his Lazarus Pits exist, though, and he was a major player in events of "Robin Rises", although Damian never had superpowers and Bruce has never been to Apokalypse. Overall, consider this story an Elseworld with a heavy influence of New52! and Rebirth.**

 **Finally, this is more of a study project, for people to criticize my writing skills. I'll try to update weekly, but I'm in a tough situation right now and English is my second language, so I may lag behind. I'm sorry for inconvenience. Also, I accept all forms of criticism, especially considering my language skills - getting better in writing is my primary goal.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat's Limericks

_Not mine. All the characters belong to Joanne Rowling and DC Comics. Nothing is mine, especially the limericks, which were written by qwanderer. Author's notes are at the end of the chapter, where they belong._

* * *

Chapter Two

THE SORTING HAT'S LIMERICKS

As Damian predicted, they reached the Hogsmead station in around five minutes. Colin was the first one out of the door of their compartment, pushing through the crowd into the platform.

'Hey, watch it!' elbowed him in a back some bulky kid with a green tie, who had a misfortune of having Colin step on his foot.

'Sorry!' hurriedly answered Colin, reaching the small staircase out of the train and practically rolling down it. 'So sorry!'

He quickly jumped down on the platform, sidestepped to the right to let others walk free and took a deep breath. The air was cold and smelled of burnt coal and steam, but to Colin it was a smell of magic. His adventure was finally about to begin.

'Firs' years! Firs' years, to me!' sounded above the platform in a loud, deep voice. Colin looked around and in the evening light saw a mountain of dark hair, looking only remotely like human… if humans ever grew almost seven feet tall. In its left hand the mountain held an oil lamp, high above his hand. The person swung its other arm, summoning Colin and the rest. 'Over here!'

Colin shrugged and started walking. As he walked closer, he realised, that most of the hair was, in fact, a dark fur overcoat, that housed a giant man with an incredibly shaggy black hair and massive beard. The giant chuckled, seeing the look of awe on Colin's face and winked at him. Colin smiled – if the giant had been wearing a red suit and had died his hair white, he'd make a decent Santa… except for a fact, that he wouldn't be able to fit into any chimney.

As he looked to the left, he saw his train companion, studying the giant with slightly squinted eyes. As both of them walked closer, the giant performed a headcount, whispering under his nose, and frowned.

'Two more…' he grumbled, looking around and comically standing on the tips of his toes. 'Two more…' He placed the lamp on the ground, put his hands to his face in a shape of cone and shouted again, 'Firs' years! Firs' years, to me!'

A small shape detached from the crowd that was walking towards the carriages, dragging behind her another, somewhat familiar to Colin. Two girls, panting and huffing, ran up to the giant and first years that surrounded him.

'I'm sorry,' whispered the redhead – Ginny, remembered Colin – trying to catch her breath. 'I just followed the rest…'

'And I followed her.' finished the other girl. She looked at giant's face and smiled brightly, 'You must be Mr. Hagrid!'

The giant laughed. 'Aye, 's me.' He turned to all of the kids and took a deep breath. 'I am Rubeus Hagrid, Keymaster and Groundskeeper o' Hogwarts. Follow me.' With this, he turned around and slowly, but steadily started walking down a narrow path, that descended from the platform to the lake nearby. The path was tiled with large, roughly cut stones, but in cold and muddy autumn that meant that it stayed solid and relatively dry.

Wayne "hm"-ed under his nose, rose his head up high and was among the first to follow the giant, preceded only by a frail girl with blonde hair – the one that Ginny had gotten late. Colin and Ginny almost immediately followed their friends, and soon all first-years, in a long and uneven line, were walking down a stone path.

The giant was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, which doubled as a shore for the lake. Near the end of the path was a small dock, with a dozen or so boats, yet Colin couldn't see any oars. Come to think of it, there weren't any horses in the carriages for the upper years either – wizards appeared to show-off their "wizardiness" in everything. Colin wondered for a second, why were they using a train to send children to school, but was immediately distracted, as the giant turned around and cleared his throat.

'Alright, yeh all here?' He looked at the group of students and smiled. 'Good. Now, then, get inside.' he pointed at the boats. 'Four studen's per one boat.' He once again counted the students, this time silently, and looked back at the boats, looking a little sad. 'O' course there's enough…'

Colin and the rest of the first years slowly walked to the boats, looking at them and choosing which one to ride. Ginny jumped into the closest one to her, and Wayne, apparently feeling competitive, immediately followed. Colin looked at the blonde girl, who offered him a small smile before joining her friend.

Feeling a little weak at the knees, Colin slowly approached the boat and clumsily climbed aboard. Since he was a kid he hated sailing and swimming – the very thought of deep water scared him. And the Hogwarts lake was deep – one book talked about the Hogwarts Squid, that lived in this lake and was as big as a car of Hogwarts Express, with tentacles as long as the train itself.

He took a place by the side of the blonde girl, directly in the back of Wayne, who was already looking around with interest. Suddenly, the oil lamp on the nose of the boat came alive, and with a graceful push the boat started its slow journey into the mist. Colin grabbed the side of the boat with all his strength, yet still couldn't keep himself from looking.

To his left, he saw another lamp, on another boat. Right by the lamp sat a girl, who held a small cage with an owl in her hands. Beside her sat a boy with a curly dark hair, who was actively swinging his hands around, telling some sort of story to the other kids Colin couldn't see. Soon, he realised that he couldn't see their destination either – everything ahead was draped in a thick, grey mist. Colin squinted, yet could not see any sign of light in it.

The redhead must have noticed his fear, because she turned around and offered him an encouraging smile.

'Hi, I'm Ginny! I don't believe we told each other our names back then.' she nodded at her companion, who placed her hand in the water to the side of the boat and was playing with it. 'This is Luna, my friend.'

'Hi…' quietly said the blonde girl, without any other acknowledgement of the conversation. She reached into the pocket of her robes with her other hand, procured a small blue berry and ate it with a distracted expression on her face.

'C-Colin.' whispered Creevey, looking at the glade of the lake against his will, and feeling already consumed, devoured by its horrible blackness. 'He's Damian.' Wayne nodded, yet kept looking forward. Colin ripped his gaze from the lake and forced himself to look at Ginny. 'Did you find your friends?'

'No…' the girl shook her head, pursing her lips. 'Percy sent owls to school and to my parents, but that's all he could do.' She sighed. 'I hope they are alright.'

'They will be.' quietly spoke Luna, removing her hand from the water and smiling at her friend. 'You told me yourself – they can do everything.'

Ginny smiled back with a hint of sadness and reached to grab her friend's hand. 'It's different, Luna. But thank you.'

'They will be.' repeated Luna seriously, tightly holding Ginny's hand. She procured another berry and placed it into Ginny's palm. 'Here, have some. Might help you scare the nargles away.'

'Um…' said Ginny, taking it and studying it suspiciously. 'Oh, what the hell…' she threw the berry in her mouth and started chewing. Next moment, her face cleared and she smiled. 'This is good! What is it?'

'No idea.' smiled Luna back with a shrug. 'I picked some from the bush on the way to boats. Another one?'

Ginny, looking a little green all of a sudden, slowly shook her head. Luna shrugged and ate one herself.

'It's wild blueberries,' chuckled Wayne without turning his head. 'Also… hold on tight', he immediately added in his usual cold tone. Colin looked up and suddenly felt that they were turning, sharply, apparently circling around something massive to his left. In the mist ahead, he saw some blurry lights, and at this very second a strong gust of wind ripped the grey veil from the surface of the lake and Colin saw Her for the first time. And there were no words for him to describe what he saw.

She was majestic. Her stone towers threatened to reach the sky, yet Her walls spread their roots deep into the rock She was built on. In the darkness of the night sky, She was alight with thousands of lights, warm and comfortable, yet promising infinite adventures. In the second Colin Creevey saw Hogwarts he was in love, even if he couldn't even comprehend what "love" even was. This was a moment Colin, for the thousandth time in his life, wished that his stupid, clumsy hands could paint, so he could show people what he really saw. But still, he had the next best thing. Forgetting his fear, he stood up in the boat, pulled his camera from its bag that hang on his neck and started filming.

 _Click._ He caught the photocard and put it in your pocket. Placed a new one in the slot. _Click_. His hands were going through the motions, never minding that he only had twenty and he had already used three. _Click._ Suddenly, another gust of wind grabbed the newly filmed photocard, sending it into the lake. Colin reached after it, but it was already caught by a thin pale hand. Luna looked at the card, smiled as the picture of the Hogwarts slowly faded onto it and offered it back to Colin, who, suddenly embarrassed with his outburst, shook his head and gave it to her. She smiled and nodded her thanks before turning back to the castle. The wind had ruffled her hair, and Colin saw that her earrings were, in fact, in form of radishes. And somehow, with Luna, it made sense.

Those fifteen minutes Colin spent on this boat, watching the massive of Hogwarts towering over him, would forever remain in his memory. But, like everything else on Earth, they had to end, and soon the boats came close to the rock that served as a foundation for the castle, aiming for the small dark tunnel ahead. Colin sat back down, putting his camera back in the bag, and took a deep breath. Wayne in front of him was sitting unnaturally still, yet Colin didn't even notice it, until the boy slowly relaxed and loudly gasped for air.

The boats slowly entered the tunnel, which led to a small underground harbour with a huge stone stairwell in the back. A couple of torches, mounted in the walls, casted light over it. Damian was the first one out, emotionless as usual, although he did offer a hand to Colin and the girls. Ginny scoffed at his attempt at gallantry and vaulted over the board, clearly showing off, while Colin simply shook his head and climbed over, but Luna took him up on the offer and gracefully stepped on the solid ground in an almost dancing move.

A couple of THUNKs sounded behind them in a quick succession. Colin turned around and saw other ten boats arrive, followed by a bigger one, that carried Hagrid. First years started climbing out of the wooden vessels, laughing, shouting and, in some cases, splashing the water on their comrades. The boy with dark curly hair – the one that Colin had seen on the neighbouring boat – slipped from the edge of the dock and almost fell in the water, but he was almost immediately grabbed by another boy and a girl and dragged back. The last one to step on dry land was Hagrid, who once again performed a headcount and, satisfied, walked to the staircase, humming some song under his nose.

'Good evening, Hagrid.' said a stern female voice from the top. 'No problems, I believe?'

Colin, with the rest of the students, looked up, surprised. The wooden door on the top of the staircase was open, and there was a woman standing in the doorway. She looked tall, thin, yet strong, wore long green robes and a pointy hat, and on her nose sat a pair of elegant spectacles. She was even older than Colin's grandma, and spoke with the same Scottish pronounce, although much less noticeable.

'Evening, professor,' happily agreed Hagrid, smiling into his beard. 'No more than usual. Firs' years here, safe and on time.'

'Hm.' professor looked over the students, who gathered in a small crowd. 'Thank you, Hagrid. My name is professor McGonagall.' she turned around on her heels. 'Students – follow me.'

With this, she once again went inside the door, as if expecting that all her orders are to be followed. As students started fearfully ascending the staircase, Colin looked back and saw, that Hagrid wasn't wasting his time – the giant man was picking up boats, like they were made out of cardboard, and placing them inside niches in the wall. Colin froze, astonished by such a display of primal, pure strength, and started unclasping his camera bag.

'Hey, snap out of it!' someone shook his shoulder. Colin looked and saw a boy with short, harsh, almost spiky black hair and narrow eyes. 'You don't wanna make this harpy wait, do you?' The boy started running up the stairs, dragging Colin behind him. On third or fourth step Creevey finally came to his senses and shook the boy's hand off. He was a little sad that he couldn't film the giant, but the boy was right. Creevey promised himself that he would find Hagrid later on. As they reached their peers, who were ascending at much slower pace, Colin caught his breath and offered the other boy his hand.

'Thanks. I must have drifted off for a second. I'm Colin.'

'Luke.' The boy shook it with a smile. He spoke fast, like he was afraid to not be given a chance to finish his sentences. 'You are welcome. Trust me, I know a thing or two about pissing off teachers in the first day of school. You don't wanna do this. Unless you really wanna do this, then, of course, go for it!'

Colin chuckled and nodded in understanding. Luke reminded him a little bit of his cousin Terry – if Terry was a couple of years younger and Asian. Terry had a tendency to get into all sorts of trouble in school, and uncle Trevor was always telling Colin's mom how Colin will be just like this too. Elisa Creevey, during such talks, smiled, nodded and winked at Colin, sometimes mouthing "drama queen", when her brother couldn't see. Colin liked Terry too – trouble or not, he was a good friend, even if he had less and less time over the years to spend with his younger cousins.

The staircase ended in a small room, with a massive on the side wall. Instead of torches, the room was lit by a couple of braziers, that hung along the walls, offering much calmer and comfortable light. Professor McGonagall stopped in front of the doors, turned around, waited until her students gathered around her, and spoke.

'Greetings at Hogwarts. You are about to enter the most prestigious wizarding school in Europe, so I would ask you to behave with dignity, that befits your status as wizards. Once again, my name is professor McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress of this school, which means that any trouble maker or flunker will have himself explained to me.' She adjusted her glasses and looked over the students. 'Am I being understood?'

Satisfied by inharmonious "Yes, professor McGonagall" and "Yes, madam", she spoke again.

'Good. Now, I must leave you here for a second – I will return in a minute or so and we will proceed with your Sorting. I expect discipline and level-headedness in my absence.' With this, professor opened the doors and swiftly went through, closing them behind her. Everyone left in the room loudly exhaled.

Colin found Wayne, who was currently squinting at the painting of a fat man in a purple mantle and a golden crown, and wedged through the crowd in his direction. Luke was already talking to the boy who almost drowned on the harbour, and Ginny was talking to some other girls. Luna was once again in her own world, leaning on the wall near the picture Damian was studying, with a distant smile on her face.

'I saw how he twitched his nose…' whispered Wayne when Colin came closer, not letting his eyes from the painted man. Luna snickered.

'Loderick the Gluttonous, 1489-1543,' read Colin aloud. 'I don't know, seems like he hasn't been twitching in awhile…'

'Ha-ha.' said Wayne without a trace of laughter in his voice, earning another snicker from Luna. 'Just keep in mind, something's up…'

Suddenly, the air in the room grew colder and the fire in the braziers flailed wildly, casting long and troubling shadows on the walls. With a long, loud "OOH!", two humanlike, but almost completely transparent figures swiftly rose from the floor, menacingly hanging above the shivering first years. Some girl shrieked, and…

The fat figure, dressed in loose monk robes, comically grabbed its ears, trying to cover them, lamenting in rather deep voice. 'For the love of all that's Holy, please, make her stop! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, alright?'

The girl, confused, stopped. The portrait of Loderick dropped all pretence and started laughing, loudly and merrily. The fat ghost gave the portrait a glare and slowly descended to the girl's level, his head with a grey bowl-cut bowed in gratitude. 'Thank you, thank you, fair maiden!' The girl, bewildered just like almost everyone else in the room, nodded.

'Warned ya…' managed to squeeze in-between the laughs Loderick.

'Indeed, you did.' agreed the other ghost, dressed in a fashionable for his time ballroom suit, with a camisole and tight pants. On his head was an incredibly complicated mess, that somewhat reminded Colin of a wig he saw a judge wear on TV, if said wig was sent through a washing machine first.

'Hey!' took offence the monk. 'If they were like they should be, this wouldn't happen!' His face fell for a second. 'These kids grow louder each year, huh, Nickie?'

'Indeed, they do…' confirmed the other ghost, also levelling himself on the ground. 'Now, then, children. Do you know who we are?'

'Almost-Headless Nick!' happily shouted Luna from behind Colin's back. The ghost, with a smile on his face, nodded, and slowly rose into the air, where he performed a proper bow, slowly spinning in place. After he straightened up, he scratched his ear for a second, before suddenly pulling on it with full force. With a sickening pop, his head detached from his neck, hanging upside-down on a thin strip of skin. The room gasped, with a couple of slightly uncomfortable chuckles from the more acknowledged students. Colin, who for the last minute was trying to catch both ghosts in the same shot with his trusty camera, gasped too, yet noticed, that Wayne was among the neither group, and was watching the spectacle with an irritated expression on his face.

'I prefer "sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington",' loudly announced the ghost, putting his head in its place. 'But if you are in trouble, or in a hurry,' he smiled kindly, again lowering himself down. '"Almost-Headless Nick" would certainly do. I am the ghost of Gryffindor.'

'Fat Friar.' announced the other ghost, taking a graceful lap of honour across the room, swimming through the air on his back. Colin bit his lip, timed the shot, and squeezed the shutter, grabbing the photocard with a now routine move. He stuffed it into his pocket, far too enchanted in the present company. Fat Friar continued:

'Although you might better know me as… Ah,' he stopped. 'Who am I kidding?' he sighed. 'No one remembers poor Brother Pimbleton these days, do they?'

A short girl with a straight, dark hair, wrinkled her face and suddenly clapped on her forehead. 'You invented butterbeer!'

The Friar's face cleared, and he, with a jolly laughter and tears of joy, ascended to the ceiling. 'They remember! They remember!' he shouted proudly, until he went to another floor, which muffled his screams. Sir Nicholas chuckled.

'Now he won't shut up about it for a year…' He looked at the girl seriously. 'Thank you. He needed this.'

'My father owns his brewery.' shrugged the girl with a smile. The ghost smiled back kindly.

'Best not tell him that, then, young Pevency. Unless, of course, you want him constantly asking how it is doing, down to the most meticulous detail. Anyway,' Almost-Headless Nick looked over the room, 'That was The Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff. Grey Lady of Ravenclaw and Bloody Baron of Slytherin couldn't come, but you will meet them in due time.' The ghost floated to the doors and shoved his torso through them. 'Aha!' he pulled himself back out. 'Here she comes. Right on time, Minnie, just like always…' He saluted to the students and floated to one of the walls. 'Farewell, children. I will see you at the sorting.'

Just as he left the room, the doors opened wide with a loud BANG! "Minnie", commonly known as Professor McGonagall in this day and age, looked over the students with a strict, yet affectionate smile on her face.

'Is everyone alright?' After seeing the happy faces, she once again turned on her heels, hiding her smile from the students. 'Follow me. Your Sorting will begin now.'

* * *

He found the ghosts incredibly lame. Like he, they were given a second chance, a life after death, and what had they been doing with their chance? Scaring first years and begging for attention, that's what. What a bunch of losers… Damian twitched, remembering the way the Almost-Headless Nick popped his head off, and felt like the shivers ran down his spine. Besides their overall lameness, the ghosts made him feel a little bit uneasy – just like graveyards, churches and morgues had been doing in the last year or two. With a frown on his face, he realised that he was starting to brood. Brooding was bad – at least, that's what Grayson and Father said, the latter in "Do what I say, not what I do" kind of tone – but at the moment he no longer cared.

That was troubling… Damian ran a quick analysis of his mental state and cringed at the result. It appeared, that the ghosts were only a part of a problem. Being out of his element, crushing down from the sugar high and being forced to socialize (although, he had to admit, Colin seemed as an interesting character) took a huge toll. The worst thing was the fact, that he missed his Father, missed Grayson and everyone else. Feeling homesick was unworthy of Wayne, unworthy of his legacy, yet he still was. The only thing that could make it even worse, would be if he was forced to listen to poetry. Thankfully, the possibilities of this seemed slim.

The children were clearing the room, following McGonagall, so he sighed and trudged behind them. Colin, of course, was at the head of the column, next to Ginny and her weird friend. To be honest, Luna confused Damian – at times she reminded him far too much of Maps, yet at the next moment she was completely closed off in her shell. Wayne sighed – he'd like to have Todd, or even better, Drake, on this one, but it seemed like he would have to use his own people skills in order to understand what was wrong with her. Said skills were not non-existent – despite whatever Grayson said – but they indeed were mostly theoretical. Damian added Luna to his mental list of curiosities worthy of investigation. Brooding intensified.

The next room was incredibly big, with 7-meter-wide staircase to his left and at least 10-meter-tall gate to his right. A red carpet with a golden ornament lied on the floor, stretching from the gates and going up the stairs. A set of doors – smaller than the gate, but still overcompensating for something – was right in front of him, with one of the leaves being open just enough for a person to walk through.

On the other side of the doors was the Great Hall. Wayne looked around with a modicum of curiosity, taking note of four House tables sitting parallel to each other, the staff table that stood alongside the far wall, and, of course, the ceiling. The illusion of the night sky on the ceiling was remarkably realistic. Damian took a note to check, whether it really showed the sky outside or just mimicked the weather to the best of its abilities.

The students sitting at the House tables were studying the first years with curious looks, yet Damian ignored them for now. He was far more interested in the one of two people sitting behind the staff table. While an upbeat black woman in her early thirties, with a round face and straight long black hair, was to be expected, the other person wasn't. A man with short platinum blond hair, dressed in a beige suit with red accents, sat near the left side of the table, looking around like he owned the world and flashing a smile to the Hall from time to time. Damian bit his lip - if Lockhart was as good as his books told, he could be a problem. Although, Tim, who was in charge of scouring the wizarding books for valuable intel, had some doubts about Lockhart's legitimacy. Wayne sighed and added Lockhart to the list.

'First years, wait here.' said McGonagall before walking straight ahead, in-between Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, towards the staff table, in front of which stood a chair with some sort of rag on it. Wayne frowned, but then realised, that the rag, most likely, had something to do with the Sorting. Despite easily cracking the Gordian Knot of Ilvermorny, even united efforts of Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown failed to uncover the exact process of Sorting in Hogwarts. Of course, they might have been studying each other instead of the wizarding books… but Father taught Damian to give his family a benefit of a doubt and so he did.

Damian looked over the Hufflepuff table, studying the students sitting at the one beyond it. Soon, his gaze zeroed in on a scrawny figure sitting in-between a freckled, redheaded boy with a long nose and Hermione from the train. Harry Potter – who apparently had some trouble with reaching the school this year, which in and of itself was a valuable data point – didn't seem to change much during the summer, compared to the photograph in the archive copy of Daily Prophet. Currently, the Saviour of the Magical World was sulking, looking straight in front of him, while Hermione and the other boy seemed to be engaged in the shouting match. Alas, due to a loud commotion in the Hall, Damian couldn't hear them. Although, he did notice, that the boy's ears were weirdly red even for a redhead and somewhat swollen. He deemed it curious. Not curious enough to add to the list, but curious still.

'Hey, here you are! I couldn't find you anywhere!' whispered to him Colin. Damian detected the slight shiver of the boy's voice, sighed and turned to his new friend. Right now he couldn't do anything about Potter or the Mission anyway. Might as well try to "be a kid", as Grayson put it. A pity there wasn't an arcade around…

* * *

'Hey, here you are! I couldn't find you anywhere!' whispered to his new friend Colin, feeling relieved. The whole "being the centre of attention" thing hadn't been working out for him at all, and at that moment almost everyone in the room was studying the first years. Not to mention, that he was a little unnerved by the sheer size of the room – it could easily fit in the whole house that Colin grew up in at least a couple of times over.

At first he tried to stick to Ginny and Luna, but both of the girls were almost immediately swept by the other girls, and Colin chose to retreat. Luna did not look particularly happy about it and almost looked like she wanted to stop him, but chose her apathy instead. Another time Colin might have stayed and tried to cheer her up, but the prospect of spending his time with a dozen of girls was something he'd rather pass. When the girls bundled together, even the better ones became way too much… "yuck". Yes, "yuck" was the right word. Besides, by that point he had already noticed his companion, who was studying the room with the same squint he offered the portrait of Loderick.

At the sound of his voice, Wayne turned around and offered Colin a small, pained smile. Colin, seeing that he wasn't the only one unnerved, smiled back and looked up, studying the night sky. He had already snapped a picture of the Great Hall, and now was just marvelling in its beauty. Floating candles, that lit up the room, gave the sight a truly surreal feel, but Colin felt like he had already used all his ability of feeling astonished today. Although, it didn't mean, that he couldn't appreciate what he saw.

The door behind the staff table opened up, and a number of wizards and witches walked in, taking their places behind the table. Colin's eyes were locked on Dumbledore, full of admiration. According to the book he bought in Diagon Alley, he was currently looking at the biggest hero of the past age, who was going to share his wisdom and experience with all of them. Colin was a little disappointed to find out, that the Hero was wearing a violet shiny mantle with golden stars and a pointy cap with the same ornaments, but he was willing to forgive an old man the lack of taste. Not to mention, that there was another Hero in this very room – a Hero of Colin's generation, Hero that saved the whole Britain from the evil monster and allowed a poor kid from North Ockendon to become a wizard. In other words, Colin couldn't wait to meet Harry Potter.

The other professors were far less of note. A tall, old man was walking with a cane he held in a wooden arm shaped like a claw, next to an incredibly short brown-haired man in a dress-coat, who was sporting a majestic moustache. Professor Sprout, whom Colin knew, since it was she who brought him a letter from Hogwarts, was engaged in an animated discussion with a dark-haired, shrivelled man dressed in all black. The last was a copper-haired young woman, dressed in dark-blue robes. This woman sat to the left of the woman in black and whispered something in her ear, which caused them both to laugh.

Professor Dumbledore took his place in the middle of the table, rose his goblet and struck it with his fork, producing a clean, loud sound. All discussion and other noises immediately died down. Satisfied, professor smiled and made a gesture to professor McGonagall. She slightly tapped the grey rag on the chair with her wand. The rag immediately perked up, assuming a form of a tall, crumbled cap. For a second Colin thought that the shadows from the candles had formed a primitive face on the cap, but the next second the cap leaned forward, and Colin realised that it, in fact, had a face. And then the cap started to sing. Or, quickly corrected himself Colin, more like chant.

 _It can really be quite a pain,_

 _To be just a hat with a brain._

 _I sit in the tower,_

 _and, hour by hour,_

 _I think how I could entertain._

Colin smiled. Limericks were usually a rather shameful art, and many poets considered them a faux-pass, but he happened to like them. Maybe exactly because he wasn't a poet. He found, that there was something attractive in their simplicity. Although, judging by the groan from his left, Damian did not share this passion of his. The Hat, though, continued unfazed.

 _Though I've lived through the time of Shakespeare,_

 _Sometimes I just can't get into gear._

 _The song just won't come;_

 _Like my tongue has gone numb;_

 _So I ask my friend Dumbledore here._

Aforementioned professor rose his eyebrows in curiosity and smiled, leaning forward and listening to every word.

 _He always has some good advice;_

 _It usually makes me think twice,_

 _And it sticks in my head;_

 _But this time he just said,_

 _"I often think limericks are nice."_

Dumbledore proudly nodded, causing a number of chuckles among the students. Professor McGonagall shook her head and pursed her lips, yet said nothing.

 _Now something in my head went *chime*_

 _I began coming up with this rhyme._

 _I realized too late,_

 _he was quite off his pate._

 _He had been fast asleep at the time!_

Dumbledore gasped in mocked offence, transforming chuckles into laughs. Professor Sprout grinned and winked at professor McGonagall, who hung her head in defeat.

 _I suppose I must just go along,_

 _And sing this ridiculous song._

 _As long as it tells_

 _Of the house where you'll dwell_

 _I guess it's not really that wrong._

 _If_ _the reason you'd like to see Rome_

 _Is to stare at some rare obscure tome,_

 _If the books you live for_

 _Seem to make others snore,_

 _Then Ravenclaw's surely your home._

The table with blue decorations laughed the most at this dig, although the rest of the school was also happy to chuckle at studious Ravenclaws.

 _And whether it be lion's roar,_

 _Or worse, a professor's low score,_

 _If you face up to all_

 _And you're still standing tall,_

 _Then I will name you Gryffindor._

A couple of students behind the Gryffindor table proudly puffed their chests, but then realised the subtle attack in the verse and deflated.

 _If you want all the power you can take,_

 _Suspect friends of stealing your cake,_

 _And if you aspire_

 _To learn black magic dire,_

 _Then a great Slytherin you will make._

The Slytherin table took the onslaught gallantly – a tall, dark boy, who had started to rise to disprove all arguments, was immediately dragged down by his Prefect and force-fed a whole pinch of Berty Botts by his other neighbour, which took him out of commission.

 _Those of you who don't think that you've got_

 _What it takes to be part of this lot,_

 _Hufflepuff's always fair;_

 _All you need to get there_

 _Is to work hard, or have you forgot?_

Hufflepuffs, who started to frown at the beginning of the verse, erupted in laughter at the final line. The Cap took a deep breath and finished the song:

 _So sit down and put me on tight._

 _Don't worry, you won't get a fright._

 _I will just pick your mind_

 _'Till I find out your kind,_

 _And tell you where you will fit right._

The song ended and nearly everyone in the Hall started to applaud. Some students shrivelled their noses and attempted to explain to their peers why exactly the limericks were bad (with a majority of such critics located behind the Slytherin table), but most students seemed to like song. Colin, smiling, joined the ovation – he felt like he found his people.

The Cap bowed to all of the four tables and finally stood in attention. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, turned towards the first years and started talking.

'Quiet!' All noises died down once again. 'Now, I will start calling out names. Upon hearing yours, you are to walk towards the Sorting Hat, pick it up, sit on the chair and put it on. The Hat will decide the most suitable House for you and announce it both to you and the Hall. Upon hearing it, you are to stand up, place the Hat on the chair and join your new House. Your Prefects will take care of you from that point. Am I being clear?'

The first years, once again being the centre of attention, nodded in disorder. McGonagall smiled.

'Then, let us begin the Sorting.' she procured a roll of parchment from the staff table, adjusted her spectacles and called out the first name. 'Alavi, Hakim!'

The boy that almost fell in the water in the boathouse smiled and took a step forward. Luke, who was standing close to him, clapped him on the back, and Hakim clapped him back before continuing his walk. Upon reaching the Sorting Hat, Hakim proudly placed it on his head with a smile on his face.

The second the Hat touched his head, the smile was gone. Holding their breaths, students of Hogwarts waited for the first Sorting of the year. With each passing moment Hakim grew sadder, until…

'Slytherin!' proudly announced the Hat. The green table started to applaud and Hakim jumped down from the chair, placed the Hat back on it, and walked to his cheering new comrades, holding his head up high and hiding tears in the corners of his eyes.

'Brooks, Victoria' called out professor McGonagall.

A pale, brown-haired girl with freckles – the one that screamed at the Fat Friar – quickly walked to the chair and hastily put the Hat on her head. A moment later the Hat announced, 'Hufflepuff!' With a huge smile on her face, the girl ran up to the "yellow" table, which congratulated her with a standing ovation.

'Creevey, Colin!'

The time slowed down. Colin gasped for air, yet it wouldn't come. He took a small, uncertain step forward and froze again, looking like a deer in the headlights.

'Come on, go!' whispered Wayne, shoving him forward a little. Colin mechanically nodded and walked to the chair, taking the Hat from it and putting it on. And suddenly everything went quiet.

* * *

'Ho, ho, ho…' said the voice in his head. Colin twitched.

'G-good evening, Mr. Hat?' he said. And yet his lips didn't move, the words sounded in his ears. The voice chuckled.

'Good evening? What do you mean, good evening? Do you mean…'

'All of the above.' quickly interrupted Colin with a smile. The voice hummed.

'Yes, I suppose we do not have the time… Let me be frank, mister Creevey – you have a perfect fit. Yearning for friendship, for belonging, you will find yourself right at home among the Hufflepuffs…'

Colin stubbornly bit his lip. The voice took note of it. 'Ah, yes. Gryffindor. Harry Potter. You are no hero, mister Creevey…' the voice stopped and hummed once again, 'But you might be, yes, you might… Your bravery may be few and far between, but it is there indeed. Yet it won't be easy, let me assure you of that.'

'Nothing ever is.' whispered Colin. The voice laughed.

'No, it isn't. Alright, then.' The voice stopped, and suddenly the sounds came back.

* * *

The hat on top of Colin's head proudly announced "Gryffindor!", and the table with the red decorations welcomed him with a round of applause. Damian smiled, watching his friend run towards his new House, yet frowned a second later. During the trainride, he pegged Colin as a Hufflepuff. He was missing something.

Professor McGonagall kept calling out names, yet Damian paid little attention to them. Colin was seated not far from Potter and his friends and Damian wondered if he knew what Potter looked like. Judging by the fact that Colin was still conscious, it was unlikely.

'Lovegood, Luna!' announced professor McGonagall and Wayne shook the thoughts off. This one was important, if he was going to get into Luna's head and see what made her tick. The girl, with the same distant stare, slowly walked to the chair and placed the Hat on her head. Suddenly, she smiled.

'Ravenclaw!' announced the Hat after a moment of thought. Luna quickly took it off and ran up the eagles' table. Somebody offered her a place, but she, still smiling, shook her head and chose to seat alone, far from the rest. Wayne blinked – that would be a place he'd choose. With each observation, he more and more noticed, that Luna seemed to be a weird hybrid of his and Maps's personalities. His frown deepened – just like his Father, he didn't consider himself completely sane, and seeing similar patterns on someone else, someone who reminded him of a close friend, made him uneasy. He would deal with it later, though – he felt completely wasted, and he still had a couple of challenges ahead.

Norbert, Lucas joined Slytherin, Tina Pevency went to Gryffindor and soon there was only a handful of first-years left. Ginny, who previously kept her composure just fine, started losing it the moment McGonagall reached the letter "T" and Torkind, Wesley went to Ravenclaw. The girl still stood tall, but she bit her lip hard, hyperventilating and looking at the chair with unease.

Wayne wasn't feeling all that well himself. Previous calculations for this mission were based on the House qualities that were described in the study books, yet Colin had already thrown all of them out of the window. He rose his eyes at the large, a little fat boy who was currently occupying the chair. He wondered how the Hat decided on the House. Did it read people's minds? If yes – could he prevent it from happening with his?

'Gryffindor!' loudly announced the Hat and the boy walked to his table with a smug smile on his face.

'Wayne, Damian!' said McGonagall and Damian took a deep breath. Showtime.

In a swift, even pace he walked to the chair, picked up the Hat and placed it on his head. Everything around went silent. The boy frowned – telepathy it was. This was going to be fun.

* * *

'Wow.' said a voice in his head. It was deep and just a little bit rough. 'And to think, that I thought, that I had already seen everything.'

Damian cursed. The voice laughed.

'Do not worry, mister Wayne, your secrets are safe with me. Although, I must admit, this is the first time I sort somebody sent to infiltrate Hogwarts.'

Damian shrugged. 'I am here to study, too.'

'Yes, yes, magic does seem like a great advantage in your line of work…' said the voice. 'I am sorry for what was done to you. And while I do not approve… I understand.'

'Thank you.' answered Wayne, pursing his lips. 'Can we get on with the Sorting?'

'Yes, yes, although there isn't much to sort, is there? You are here for knowledge, after all.'

Damian smiled. Despite a talking, thinking hat, the plan was back on the rails.

'Before we are done, mister Wayne…' said the aforementioned cap. 'I want you to know, that the requirements for the houses are more of a guidelines and there are loopholes in them. While you may be a suitable fit, there were students today, who tried to use such loopholes to get into a house they should rather avoid. And I could not stop everyone.'

Wayne cursed again, summoning a picture of Colin in his mind.

'I cannot tell who exactly.' sadly answered the Hat. 'But since you are going to have a little easier time here, due to your unnatural abilities…' the Hat paused for a second, 'I would like you to keep an eye on those stray souls. Their stubbornness and dedication, while admirable, might lead them to a bitter end.'

Damian mulled over this. He understood non-belonging – something that he felt a lot when he first came to Gotham. And while he made it his home eventually, he had to agree that he'd never be able to do this without Father, Alfred, or Grayson. Even Brown and Drake played their parts. Slowly, he nodded.

'If it won't compromise the Mission.'

'Yes, of course.' agreed the Hat. 'As for your mission… I am bound by the same rule… But he was here and I sat atop his head. A near perfect fit, that one was…'

'Thank you.' whispered Wayne. That was an incredibly valuable, even if incomplete, piece of intel.

'No, thank you. I wish you success, mister Wayne. And now, you would do well to join…'

* * *

'Ravenclaw!'

Colin frowned. Of course, he did not expect that his new friend would become his housemate… but he certainly hoped for it. Still, that didn't mean that they couldn't be friends. Not to mention, that Luke was in Gryffindor too, which meant he wasn't completely alone.

Colin watched as Damian, at the same brisk pace, walked to the Ravenclaw table. Luna asked him something as he walked by her, and he seemed to answer, but Colin didn't see what happened next, because McGonagall called out "Weasely, Ginevra", and the Gryffindor table visibly tensed up.

The girl took a slow and uncertain step forward and unsurely looked at the Gryffindor table. Redheaded twins, who sat at the head of the table, smiled at her and made a welcoming gesture, before mouthing something to her. Colin did not know what they were going for, but it seemed to enrage Ginny, who furiously strolled towards the chair, grabbed the Hat and put it on.

The silence was damning. A couple of seats to the left from Colin, redheaded boy, who had been arguing in whispers with the girl that was looking for her friends on the train, now was watching the Sorting with an unblinking stare, biting his lip so hard, that Colin thought it might start bleeding soon. Percy Weasely, the Prefect of Gryffindor, who personally congratulated every new student in his house, sat unnaturally stiff, drumming his fingers on the table. Finally, the Hat gave its verdict.

'Gryffindor!'

Ginny, with a bright smile, grabbed the Hat from her head, gave it professor McGonagall and ran up to Percy, who immediately grabbed her in embrace. After she got out of it, Ginny was almost immediately clapped on her back by the twins, and soon sat just across the redheaded boy that was so worried for her. The girl from the train – Hermione, finally remembered Colin – started quickly whispering to Ginny, sometimes pointing at both her brother and the thin dark haired boy with round glasses that was sitting between them.

Professor McGonagall removed the chair with a flick of her wand and carried the Hat to a small pedestal in the corner of the room. After setting it there, she started walking to her place at the staff table, but Colin was once again distracted.

'They what?!' loudly gasped Ginny, frantically looking around the table. Some of the people gave her somber nods, which didn't help her composure at all. 'Ron…' Ginny, furious, stared at her youngest brother, and Colin realised that she had tears in her eyes. 'How could you?'

'Gin…' started the redheaded boy, raising his hands.

'Do not "Gin" me, Ronald!" she snapped at him. 'Do you… do you even understand what could happen to Dad? To you? To…' she looked to her brother's neighbour and fell silent.

'Ginny, please.' quietly said the dark-haired boy. 'We screwed up. We know that. We've been hearing this for the last hour…'

Ginny, completely red, deflated. 'S-sorry.'

Hermione, who had been glaring at her friends, pursed her lips. 'I hope you don't think you can deal with me that easily, Harry.' The boy cringed, but nodded to her.

Colin's eyes widened. Was this… was this Harry Potter? The legendary wizard, who defeated the Dark Lord? It seemed, like today was a day to be disappointed in the visual images of his heroes. Still… Colin touched the camera bag with a smile. He was going to get this picture. He already was in the same House as Harry Potter. How cool was that?

Professor Dumbledore at the staff table stood up and once again hit the goblet. The silence once again took over the Great Hall. Dumbledore smiled and cleared his throat.

'Welcome! Welcome to the new year at Hogwarts! Now…' he paused, 'now would be the time for me to offer you some words of wisdom…'

Some students chuckled. Colin didn't get why. Dumbledore continued.

'…but it seems I am fresh out. Instead, let me introduce our new teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts – an adventurer, novelist and gentleman, cavalier of the Order of Merlin, third class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defence League and simply a hero – Gilderoy Lockhart.'

The Hall erupted in applause. Lockhart – who turned out to be that fancy-dressed blonde guy – stood up and bowed to the Hall.

'Thank you, thank you, Albus… Although you forgot to mention, that I am also a five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award!' said Lockhart with a wink. Some students laughed, and he had to wait until it died down. 'I am glad to be in Hogwarts once again. It will be a great honour, and a great opportunity for me to share my knowledge, my life, with so many young minds. I cannot wait to begin! I will see you all in my class, but, for now, let us listen to what else our Headmaster has to say!'

Lockhart sat back down and returned to his conversation with professor Sprout. Dumbledore chuckled.

'In fact, dear Gilderoy, I may not be able to say much. Except only for,' Headmaster smiled, 'tuck in!'

At the very second he said that, the tables, which previously had been empty, became full of food. Colin, who finally lost all ability to be even surprised, picked up a fork and poked the nearby roasted chicken. The chicken felt normal, so he cut himself a wing, placed some mashed potatoes on his plate and followed the advice of the Headmaster. To his left, Hermione continued her one-girl-assault on Harry Potter and Ronald Weasely, both of whom seemed to be completely focused on the eating. And at the Hufflepuff table, a second-year boy was looking at Damian Wayne with an astonished expression on his face.

* * *

 **Hello again!**

 **First of all, let me thank you all for your feedback! Unfortunately, FFN crapped out and I can only read reviews in the email, but the sheer fact, that four people took time to read the first chapter and then review it is invigorating to me. Once the review system is up, I'll start responding to them properly, but for now you'll have to bear with replies in ANs. Sorry, I promise I'll try to keep it to a minimum!**

 **Some points from reviews I'd like to raise:**

 **Keeperofhounds: Goliath may appear in the flashbacks or bonus chapters, but you shouldn't wait for him in the main story this year. I also love him, but he is going to be a distraction right now. Justice League does not exist on this world at all, although Bruce keeps contact with some other street level vigilantes. Like Goliath, they will not appear this year.**

 **TheUnfamiliarFamiliar: Yes, I studied mostly American English. I try to use British slang, but my knowledge of it can be compared with Damian's people skills. If someone could Britpick my writing - that'd great.**

 **Nobodez and Snowflakeofdoom: Thank you for your kind words!**

 **Now, about the chapter. I tried very hard not to turn it into a slow drag, because everyone in HP fandom had seen the Sorting one too many times already. I hope that I managed to spice it and the boatride with enough fun things, but overall I was just trying to push through the Feast, so that we can get to the actual plot. While the actual antagonist won't strike for awhile, Damian vs Lockhart in the next few chapters is going to be fun.**

 **I also tried to give each of my protagonists a unique voice. Still not sure if I succeeded. I'll try to improve on it in the future. As for why they are in different Houses... Frankly speaking, Damian in Gryffindor is an equivalent of Colin in Slytherin. He won't fit. Not to mention, that he would thwart Riddle's plans far too quick, before good old Tom is able to gather his strength.**

 **There's also a reason why this update is so soon. I will be unable to post on Saturday, like I originally planned, so I am switching things around a bit. I hope Tuesdays work for you too!**

 **Once again, thank you everyone, who reviewed, followed or favourited Chapter 1. While I am not going to beg for reviews or keep new chapters hostages, reading other people's opinions on this fic really helps me write, so, if it is not too much of a bother - please, send me your opinions on what you just read.**

 **With love, farfromrefuge.**


	3. Chapter 3: Charmed

_Batman created by Bill Finger, Damian Wayne - by Grant Morrison, the rest - by J.K. Rowling. I own nothing. NOTHING!_

Chapter Three

CHARMED

He was running. Heavy combat boots were hitting the stone floor with a dull, muffled sound, and he was already panting, loudly grabbing the cold mountain air with his mouth, which meant they even if they couldn't see him, they could hear him. The window behind him shattered, and yet another pursuer hit joined the hunt, leading their prey to the dead end. He didn't know who they were, but he knew that he and his allies must have been betrayed. As he reached the end of the hallway, he quickly went through a small door to the left, dodging a thrown knife, and started descending the spiral staircase. Suddenly, he froze, chuckled, and intentionally skipped the step, falling down and smashing his face on the steps. The world around him twitched and fell apart.

Somewhere in Hogwarts, Damian Wayne woke up with a frown on his face. That nightmare was starting to annoy him. He looked out of the window at the brightening horizon, stretched, and got up. It was no use trying to sleep after using Jason Todd's method of dealing with nightmares, even if it left the user feeling completely wrecked. And if he hurried up, he could still fit a short training session before classes started, freeing an hour in the evening.

Unbeknown to him, another student was awake in Hogwarts.

* * *

When the first rays of the rising sun hit the glade of the Hogwarts lake, Colin Creevey was already washed, dressed and aiming his camera. He spent the last hour waiting for this moment, choosing the best location and angle well before the sun even started to brighten the horizon. Finally, the water came alive with light, that immediately started toying with the waves, chasing them towards the shore, where they hit the sand and retreated back. The Whomping Willow slowly shook, seemingly stretching before a long day and shaking down its drying leaves. Colin smiled and gently squeezed the shutter of his camera, catching a small photocard before it could fall down. Considering that Colin was currently leaning out of the window of his room in Gryffindor Tower – down was a long way to go.

As he studied the result, a small frown crept on his face. He wished he had a better camera, one of those long-ranged designs he had seen on TV, that could capture the details even smaller than the human eye could see… but he was also content with the result. "Camera doesn't matter", used to tell his dad, who spent his whole life in company of an old film camera, that used to belong to his dad, Colin's grandfather.

"It's the man that holds it." quietly finished the saying Colin, placing the photocard inside a small album and placing a new card in the camera. He still couldn't believe his dad let him take this Polaroid with him – after all, he's been practicing for less than a year, taking pictures around the neighbourhood. But his father believed that Colin had an eye for it, a natural talent of seeing beauty in regular things and showing it to others. And Colin wasn't going to disappoint his dad.

Looking back at the lake, he smiled. He still remembered, how afraid he was the day before, and, to be fair, he still wasn't sure if he would ever be able to swim in the lake. But there was beauty in it too, chaotic, primeval beauty. Colin realised, that that's how the waters of Innsmouth would have looked, had the town actually existed. He shuddered. Hopefully, there weren't any fishmen at the bottom of the lake.

Climbing down from the windowsill, he quietly placed the album and the camera back into his trunk and pulled out his timetable for today. Charms with Ravenclaws, then Transfiguration, followed by Care for Magical Creatures with Hufflepuffs. Colin found his copies of _Standard Book of Spells: volume 1, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and _Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and threw them into his school bag. After that – he checked the schedule again – two hours of Defence Against the Dark Arts with once again, Ravenclaws. Colin pulled out all of Lockhart's books and stared at them in confusion. Of course, he wouldn't need them all… would he? He could probably fit them all in his bag, yes, but that'd be rather stupid of him – having the physique of a twig, he would be heaving on the staircases. Colin shrugged and threw his copy of _Wandering with Werewolves_ into the bag, due to it having the most badass cover – Gilderoy Lockhart, in all of his glory, battled three monstrous wolves, while winking at the reader.

After finishing up his loadout with an ink well, two quills and a thick stack of parchment, Colin checked the time on a wind-up alarm clock. Breakfast started in an hour, so he had time to kill. He pulled out an unfinished bag of Berty Botts and settled down on his bed with _Marauding with Monsters_ in hand. So far, Lockhart seemed like a major badass, even though Colin's dad had to spend almost 200 pounds on his books – roughly as much as on the rest of the reading material. Colin carefully opened the book and started reading.

* * *

Behind the window, a small figure in a Muggle sport costume finished doing sit-ups and started its run around the lake.

He was running once more. Only this time, it wasn't heavy boots and ceremonial robes that he was wearing – they were replaced with far more sensible trainers and loose cotton clothes. The air was cold, just like in the dream, but it did not bite. Not yet – while autumn had already come to Scotland, Damian had suspicions that it was going to get much colder later on. Not that it mattered – he was used to Gotham's weather, and thus was no stranger to cold.

Something to his right moved. Without losing his tempo, he looked to the side and saw the Whomping Willow furiously swinging at the grey cat, that hissed and immediately ran away to the castle. Wayne smiled, remembering Alfred – not the butler, although he dearly missed the old hoot too – but his cat, given to Damian in the very beginning of his campaign as Robin by the aforementioned old hoot. Originally Wayne wanted to bring him to Hogwarts too, but decided against it as time went by. With all of his great qualities, Alfred did not like traveling, clearly taking after his namesake. As he turned around the lake, starting his run back, Damian sighed. Maybe next year.

He looked up and saw the castle of Hogwarts in front of him. And it made him once again wonder of the words he heard from the Sorting Hat the day before – of students, who defied the Sorting. Originally, Wayne assumed it to be Colin, escaping Hufflepuff due to his desire to be like Harry Potter, but now that he had a night to think about it, he was not so sure. The newly christened Gryffindor had shown some guts back on the lake, when he saw Hogwarts for the first time, which made him maybe a bit poor, but still a fit. Damian bit his lip – he clearly had to think about it more.

He checked the mechanical watch on his hand and sped up, kicking the ground harder. He had only half-an-hour to take a shower and get to breakfast. His bag had been, of course, already packed in the evening.

* * *

Colin turned the page and threw another bean in his mouth, before suddenly cringing – it turned out to be sour cabbage. Lockhart in the book was battling an Abyssinian drake at the moment, deep into Lybian desert, where he got lost while searching for a missing expedition. As the foreword to the chapter said, expedition was never found and the mission was a failure, but Lockhart chose to include this story in the book as a great example of how dangerous wild drakes were and why there had been a "capture dead or alive" order on them in most of the civilized countries.

Overall, Lockhart's book seemed to be worth its money. While professor sometimes went into long monologues about his own perfection, most of the book talked about creatures Colin already knew from _Fantastic Beasts._ Only Lockhart, unlike Newt Scamander, didn't care about their rations or habitats. Instead, professor talked about his encounters with the monstrous beasts and the ways he managed to stay alive. For example, he escaped the Abyssinian drake by using a Sunstone – not a gem, but a miniature device employed by Romanian vampire hunters to create a powerful flash of sunlight. While the dragon was recovering its sight, Lockhart hid in the cranny of a dune, cast a Bubblehead charm and buried himself deep in the hot sand, making drake's temperature sense useless. In conclusion, professor explained, that the most a single wizard can hope for when faced with an angry drake was simple survival, while actual Drake-catcher teams usually consisted of at least a dozen experienced wizards. As for drakes' older relatives – True Dragons – Lockhart shamefully admitted, that he had never met a wild dragon, not to mention had a privilege of fighting the sentient beast. Footnotes to the chapter contained names for a couple of spells that could replicate the effect of the Sunstone – out of them all, Lockhart recommended _Conjuctivitus_ , which he suggested to look for in _Genteman's Arsenal: A Guide to the Competitive Duelling_ , issue 24, 1978.

Colin put the book down and stared at the ceiling. He was wrong – Lockhart wasn't a badass. He was _the_ badass. Suddenly, the alarm clocks on the drawers started to ring. Creevey checked the time – fifteen minutes before the beginning of breakfast. To his right, a still half-asleep body of Luke Wen plopped out of the bed and with a mumbled 'Morning' went on the journey to the restrooms.

Ten minutes later, a happy crowd of first-year boys descended into the Common Room of Gryffindor. Jared – a fat, pudgy boy with curly blond hair and round face – was telling the rest of the group what the lessons would be like. Colin, despite thinking that Jared was full of it, listened – after all, Jared had an older brother in Hufflepuff, so he was bound to know something. And even if the History of Magic wasn't taught by an actual ghost… what of it? It made for a decent story, and Colin loved stories.

A tall, thin figure with glasses and a ponytail of brown hair was already waiting for them near the entrance to the Common Room, surrounded by a crowd of very displeased first-year girls.

'I told you already, Tina, we have to wait for… ah, here they are!' Vlad Pierson, fifth year Prefect of Gryffindor, rose his head on the boys. 'Come on, let's go!' he opened up the portrait and crawled out first, leading the hungry party towards the Great Hall.

'Could have come sooner…' said Tina in whisper, that was heard by anyone interested.

'Boys!' scoffed her neighbour. 'Don't bother with them, Tina, they are not worth it. Right, Ginny? Ginny?'

The redhead slowly shook her head and looked at the girl in mild confusion. 'Yes, Lisa, whatever.'

'Didn't sleep well?' smiled Lisa.

Ginny yawned and nodded, before continuing her downward trudge to the bottom of the tower. Colin noticed that she indeed looked tired and even more pale than usually.

Damian was already at the Ravenclaw table when Colin got to the Great Hall, picking at his food. Creevey waved at his friend and received a curt nod back. Breakfast consisted of oatmeal, boiled eggs, beans and sausages – something that Colin gladly dug into. He liked meat, even though it was hard to tell from his stature.

Jared kept talking about lessons. According to him, Charms were taught by a short professor Flitwick, who was very excitable and forgiving… that is, until you really set him off. Flitwick used to be a master duelist in the past, but abandoned this art shortly before coming to Hogwarts. Luke and Max – another roommate of Colin's, who said barely two words since introducing himself – were listening attentively, sometimes even forgetting about food, while Desmond – the last roommate of Colin's – was instead chewing it at full speed, stories be damned.

Colin washed the food down with a glass of pumpkin juice and was going to leave the Hall, when Harry Potter, in company of his friends from the previous day, walked into the Hall and, still grumbling, sat in front of Creevey. Colin froze.

'…bunch of rotten luck, mate.' finished saying something the redhead – Ron, quickly remembered Colin.

'Seriously, Ronald.' sighed Hermione. 'Sixty hours of detention is not that bad for what you've done. If you ask me…'

'I don't.' interrupted Ron.

'If you ask me, she went easy here.' finished Hermione. 'You are lucky she knew your parents and preferred not to get them in trouble.'

Ron pursed his lips into a string, sighed and took a small bite of sausage.

'She's right, you know…' quietly said Harry, hunching down and putting his chin on his arms.

'She always is…' grumbled Ron before looking up, right at Colin. 'And what do you want?'

Colin flinched. Hermione also looked up and smiled. 'Oh, hi. We met on the train, didn't we?'

Colin slowly nodded, before offering his hand. 'C-Colin.' He mentally cursed his nervousness.

'Hermione.' she shook it in a smooth motion and nodded at her neighbour. 'That's Harry. The jerk is Ron.'

Ron scoffed, but took it and shook Colin's hand too. Harry mumbled something resembling 'hi' and went back to staring at his glass of pumpkin juice.

Colin's smile faltered and he retracted his hand. 'Nice t-to meet you...' he said, quietly, and looked at the dark haired boy. Bracing himself, he, in full of hope voice, asked. 'Are… are you really Harry Potter?'

Harry groaned and lifted his hair, showing his scar, while giving Colin a glare. The boy instantly deflated. 'Sorry.'

'It's alright.' sighed Harry, letting his hair down. 'What did you want?' he asked in a heavy voice.

Colin reached for his camera, but remembered that he left it behind, in his room. Thinking on the go, he blabbered, 'Could I take a picture of you? When we get back to the tower, I mean?'

Harry sighed again and hid his face in his hands.

'You mean a picture with him?' slowly asked Hermione.

Such possibility had never entered Colin's mind until that moment, but he knew a helping hand when he saw one, so he quickly nodded a couple of times. Ron, who, apparently, was finding it all incredibly amusing, elbowed his friend. Hermione also whispered something into his ear.

'Deal.' finally agreed Harry. 'One picture. With all of us.', he emphasized. 'As friends.'

Colin, with a goofy smile, frantically nodded, mumbled "Thank you!" and started to stand up. He found Damian and met his gaze, nodding at the doors. Wayne, who was still chewing on a sausage and egg sandwich he made, shook his head and Colin went to the exit alone, still feeling like he was on the seventh heaven. That's why he almost crashed into Luna in the doors, which immediately grounded him. She quickly bumbled her apologies and rushed to the Ravenclaw table without even letting him start on his. Shrugging, Colin looked at the clock above the gates and ran up the Grand Staircase – it was less than five minutes before the Charm lesson began.

* * *

Damian noticed Luna entering the Hall and relaxed. He had noticed the girl's absence a long time ago and was immediately worried for her. Luna seemed to have this fragile sense around her, something Damian couldn't really explain. He tried to come up with a rational name for it, but the closest thing he found was "innocence", which was still far too imprecise for his taste.

Frowning, he stood up and went for the exit, finishing the sandwich on the go. Luna decided to sit at the end of the table, and was hastily eating a boiled egg with a spoon. As he was passing by, Damian stopped near her.

'Hey, do you know how to get to the Charms class?'

Luna quickly swallowed the remains of the egg and nodded. 'Third floor, to the left.' she said, pointing with her spoon.

'Thanks.' smiled Damian and went for the exit. His smile slid off his face the moment he stepped through the door. He wasn't wrong – tips of Luna fingers were covered in ink. But what could she be writing on the night before school? And why did she look so tired, like she had barely gotten any sleep? Frowning, Wayne increased Luna's priority level on the list.

* * *

'Magic!' began professor Flitwick, standing on the stack of books behind his table. Colin thought that he looked rather funny, but kept it to himself, just like most of the rest of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws sitting around the room. Although Luke, who was sitting to his right, still coughed from time to time, hiding laughs.

'Magic is incredible. Astonishing. Unpredictable. Magic allows you to take the world and rebuild it in your own name – although, of course, professor McGonagall's discipline is much more fitting for this sort of task. Magic can help you defeat any foe – but of that you will learn from professor Lockhart. But I, I will teach you how to make magic your friend. How to start a fire. How to keep yourself warm. How to do thousands of maybe menial and routine, but important tasks… and how to do them right.'

He produced his wand, which seemed to be as long as his forearm, and swished it through the air. All the books, ink wells, quills and other trivia on the students' tables flew up in the air, slowly rotating. Ink spilled out of ink wells, but continued floating around them in massive blobs of violet. Astonished students watched the spectacle with open mouths.

'Charms have a reputation of being a boring lesson.' smiled professor, showing off unusually sharp teeth. 'A housekeeper's discipline, they call them. They are not wrong here, by the way – knowing your Charms allows you to make your home a better place much easier. But let me tell you something. A professional opinion, if I may.' he started slowly circling with the tip of his wand, increasing the speed of the objects' rotation. 'Charms.' he swished and flicked his wand, and the books in the air flew back to their owners, landing in the same places as they originally laid. 'Is anything.' He swished again and so did the quills, parchments and other knick-knacks. 'But boring.' finished professor, once more waving his wand through the air. The ink immediately returned to the ink wells. Luke and Max started to applaud, and were immediately supported by the rest of the class.

'What you just saw,' continued professor, 'Was an expert use of a Charm we are going to learn in a couple of months. But for now – let us start with something smaller.'

He flicked the wand on the blackboard and it started filling itself with instructions.

'The incantation is _Lumos_.' said professor Flitwick. 'And its beauty is that you can use it in any position, with any move. My, some wizards can even cast it without holding a wand. The result should be,' he slowly levelled the tip of his wand in front of his eyes and whispered ' _Lumos.'_

The wand lit up. First a small, barely visible spark settled itself on its tip, but a second later it grew to the size of a rosary bead. Then – to the size of a tennis ball. In the end, professor Flitwick held an orange-sized ball of cold, blue light on the tip of his wand, brighter than the sunlight that came through the windows. After confirming that everyone in the room saw it, he whispered ' _Nox.'_ The ball disappeared.

'But before we begin,' said Flitwick, 'There's something you should know. If you read your books on Theory of Magic, you probably already know, but I'll repeat.' he jumped from his pedestal and walked into the middle of the classroom. 'A spell – a Charm, a Curse, a Jinx, or whatever else you call it – is not just words and form. Spell is also intent, your will, your desire to do something. Some of the most powerful…' a dark shadow appeared on his usually happy face, making him look much more frightful than he was, 'some of the most powerful spells are driven completely by intent.'

'So,' he clapped his hands, and just like that he was a smiling, small professor once more. 'Why don't we begin?'

Colin, who was listening and watching with an open mouth, silently nodded and pulled his wand out of his pocket. Like Flitwick, he put it in front of his nose and whispered ' _Lumos!_ '. Nothing happened. Frowning, the boy looked around and saw the same confused faces.

'Oh, try again, try again!' laughed the professor. 'Persistency is an important quality in a wizard, after all. Just take a deep breath, focus, and…' he produced his wand, whispered " _Lumos!_ " and had shown its glowing tip to the class. 'And try again.'

Colin doubtfully looked at his own wand. He flicked it in front of him and cast the spell once more. Nothing happened. So he did it again. And again. And again, until suddenly a small spark ran through it, culminating into a bright, silent explosion of blinding blue light on the tip.

'Oh, dear.' said Flitwick, running up to Colin, 'Not like this, not like this. That was great job, mister…' he paused.

'Creevey,' answered Colin. 'Colin Creevey.'

'Mister Creevey.' nodded the small professor. 'As I was saying, you did amazingly, but you did the wrong thing. You got angry, didn't you?'

Colin slowly nodded. Indeed, he was feeling rather stupid and angry at himself by the third attempt.

'You shouldn't have,' smiled Flitwick. 'Your bond with your wand is still in early days, it doesn't understand yet that you are not always calm. So, feeling your distress, it sent a lot of power into the spell – far more than it needed. And this is dangerous – it may drain you dry and make you sick. So, mister Creevey, if you want to keep casting your spells properly,' professor winked at Colin, 'do try to stay calm. Or at least positive. Do you understand?'

'Yes, sir.' smiled back Colin, took a deep breath and tried again. This time the tip of his wand didn't explore, but instead lit up – the light was smaller and dimmer than Flitwick's, in fact it was no bigger than a pinhead, but it was there. Colin wiped the sweat off his forehead and leaned back into his chair, letting go of all subconscious doubts he ever had. He _was_ a wizard. And two points to Gryffindor had only just proven it.

The rest of the lessons were kind of a blur to Colin. Even though other professors seemed to want to impress the students too, no one reached the heights of professor Flitwick. Professor McGonagall came pretty close with her transformation into a cat, though. Care of Magical Creatures, on the other hand, was a bit of a disappointment – professor Kettleburn didn't let them near anything really majestic. By man's own words, he got tired of losing limbs and now offered for the most part theoretical lessons while the school was looking for a replacement. Although, Colin had to admit – a realistic animated poster of a dragon that Kettleburn had on his classroom's wall was incredibly cool. Even if it was only ¼ scale.

Now, Colin was standing in front of DADA classroom, desperately trying to stop his knees from jiggling. He couldn't stop but read more Lockhart on breaks, and he had to hand it to the man – if _Marauding with Monsters_ was a collection of small stories, _Wandering with Werewolves_ was a terrifying mystical thriller set in Australian outback. Thinking, that Lockhart actually lived through it sent shivers down Colin's spine. All alone, it a small far away town, investigating horrific murders and knowing that everyone can turn out a flesh-eating monster… Professor Lockhart must have had guts of pure steel.

'Hey, you OK?' asked Luke, creeping up from behind. Original plan was to suddenly scare Colin, but seeing his roommate's face made him reconsider.

'Y-yeah…' whispered Colin back. 'It's just…' he stammered, in a loss of a word.

'Too much for today?' asked Max, who was, as always, shadowing his friend.

Colin nodded, relieved that someone else understood. 'Way too much.'

'You'll get used to it!' clapped him on the shoulder Luke. 'We are wizards now, it's in the job description!'

Colin smiled, although he felt some hollowness in his stomach. His heart pumped in his ears, and he tried taking deep slow breaths, waiting till the lesson began.

Finally, the door unlocked itself, and the older students started coming out one by one. Judging by their robes, they were Hufflepuffs, although Colin had never seen angry Hufflepuffs before. While the girls were mostly giggly and laughing, with some them having rather dreamy expressions, boys were mostly downright mad.

'Don't worry, Ced, it could literally have happened to anyone…' said one of the boys to the other, who had a Prefect's badge on his robe. But his words seemed to be moot, because the boy continued walking forward, ignoring his friends and screeching his teeth.

'I'll show him a ravenous ghoul!' heard Colin as the boy walked past him, muttering under his breath. His friend let him go and slowed down, watching him walk away, before turning to a slightly plump girl that stopped next to him.

'Dear, Cedrick has gone bye-bye.' he said, hugging her around her waist. She laughed, whispered something in his ear and together they followed the murderous Cedrick.

Colin, feeling rather put off by all this debacle, carefully looked into the DADA classroom. The entire interior was undeniably Lockhart. As in, every wall had portraits of heroic professor, some of them so much, that there was no free space at all. The original copy was currently setting back an overturned desk – surprisingly, by hand. Finally, with a loud THUMP, the desk took its place and Lockhart wiped his sweat with a small handkerchief he produced from his chest pocket. He looked up, saw Creevey and smiled, waving his hand.

'Come in, come in! Never let it be said that Gilderoy Lockhart made someone wait… unless he had a reputable excuse, ho-ho!' professor laughed. 'We will begin in a moment.' he said, looking around, checking if everything else was in order.

'It's alright, professor.' said Tina, unsurely following Colin into the classroom. 'Claws are not even here yet.'

'Oh!' perked up the professor. 'And why is that? I thought they were the studious ones, ho-ho!'

'Might have something to do with their schedule…' thoughtfully said Jared, sitting at the newly set up desk.

Lockhart stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then his face cleared. 'Potions?'

Jared nodded melancholically and shivered. Gryffindors had Potions on Friday, but he had already enlightened his friends about many virtues of professor Snape.

'Then we shall wait.' smiled professor, stepping to the side of his desk and leaning on it with one hand. 'Does anyone want a story? I seem to remember one. It was in the Swiss Alps, in the middle of winter…'

* * *

On his way to DADA classroom, Damian evaluated his experience in Potions and realised that he liked it. Snape seemed to employ the 'harsh love' technique, allowing his students to make all the mistakes on their own and then judging their result. Explanation of said mistakes was optional, and more often than not took a shape of additional homework. Now, to almost anyone else it would seem like Hell – and it did – but Damian was almost instantly reminded of his own teachers in Nanda Parbat. Particularly, Lady Shiva, who had shown up irregularly to beat the crap out of him in the ring and then point out his mistake. One, usually the least crucial one. If he had wanted more – he had had to find them on his own, or go annoy Bronze Tiger, Cheshire or Mother.

Wayne wondered for a moment, whether the local library had some pointers on Potions – idea to show Snape up in his own game was intoxicating to him right now. Especially once he remembered surprised (and heavily bruised) face of Lady Shiva after his first victory. Seeing the same expression on Snape's face would be priceless, especially if it won't be just because Snape slipped on the tatami. And he himself, hopefully, won't get humiliated in forty different ways immediately afterwards. Thinking about this, he walked up to the massive wooden door, which was surprisingly open.

'…and then I pushed the yeti into the abyss!' said Lockhart, bowing to "oohs" and "ahs" from first years, just as Damian looked into the classroom. 'Ah,' he looked up. 'Here are our wayward students!'

Damian looked back and indeed, the rest of his Ravenclaw peers seemed to have caught up with him.

'Don't be shy, come in!' continued Lockhart. 'We were just killing some time, telling tales, ho-ho…' After ensuring that everyone was inside, Lockhart swished his wand and the doors closed. 'But now we may truly begin!'

As the Ravenclaws took their seats, Lockhart whipped out a thick stack of parchment and tapped it with his wand. The parchments immediately started flying out, landing in front of the students. After ensuring that everyone had a copy, professor continued. 'I know that you have bought my books – my, to most of you I signed them myself, ho-ho! So I would like to see how much you have already learned from them!'

Damian, who sat alone – perks of letting everyone else take their sits first – grabbed his and studied it. And then studied it once more, because it made no sense. How in hell was he supposed to know Lockhart's secret ambition? Or the best birthday present? Or his favourite colou… Wayne looked around and froze. Oh, the man _was_ good. He wasn't testing them for knowledge, he was testing them for an ability to acquire it! Surely, he must have left some clues in this room or in his speeches before!

'You have twenty minutes to complete it.' said Lockhart, taking his seat and moving aside dozens of envelopes that filled his desk. 'Ready?' He produced an hourglass and put it in front of him. 'Go!'

With that, he turned the stopwatch and with a snappy THUD! placed it back on the table, returning to his mail. Damian immediately filled his quill and went to work,

Favourite colour… Damian looked up to Lockhart, who was wearing a set of dark red robes with beige accents. Wayne supposed they were rsther tasteful for a wizarding fashion… except for a lilac handkerchief that stuck out of Lockhart's chest pocket, breaking the colours in a rather jarring way. A quick look at the portraits confirmed – Lockhart always had something lilac on him. Heh. One point for Gotham.

The boy looked around and noticed that he was pretty much the only relatively calm person. The boys were mostly freaked out by the surprise test – although two Gryffindors were actually collaborating on theirs, sometimes exploding in silent laughter – while the girls were gushing over the tests and carefully trading information. And then there was Luna, that methodically filled the blanks, not a care in the world, but Wayne had no idea whether she actually knew the answers. If the Herbology was any indicator, the girl definitely _thought_ she knew a lot of things, but her knowledge was unconventional at best. Although he was definitely going to write Drake on the subject of Fireplums. Those things sounded way too useful to be left unchecked.

Anyway, next question. He skipped the secret ambition one, since that would definitely require a lot of thoughts. 'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?' whispered Damian under his nose, remembering the Opening Feast yesterday. Shrugging, he wrote down "Winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times." and moved on. "Favourite genre of music" was deemed to be jazz, once Wayne saw a portrait playing a saxophone. "Favorite pet" almost led him to a dead end, until he looked at the mail on the table and an empty perch in the corner. "Best side for photographs...", "The fiercest enemy defeated…" – on and on it went.

At the end Wayne was left with two minutes to spare and two questions to answer. Well, three, but he had no idea what types of brooms there were in the wizarding world, much less which type Lockhart preferred. So he just wrote down "sport class" – one of professor's portraits was wearing the Quidditch uniform.

That left him with Lockhart's secret ambition and Lockhart's birthday. Thinking that he missed something, Damian went over every interaction with a heroic professor in his head. Nothing sprang. Observations of the classroom's interior yielded zilch too. "Well,", thought the boy, "if you don't know the answer to something – there's always an option of trusting your hunch. Or," he chuckled, "as Tim puts it – nightwinging it". Thus, the secret ambition became "to become the best in every field", which lined up nicely with his observations. As for the birthday – Damian humbly scribbled "July, 26", with the desired present being "another pet". He actually had absolutely no idea on this one, so that shot in the dark was as good as anything else.

The sand in the stopwatch ended and, with another loud THUD! it turned itself. Lockhart, startled by the noise, almost dropped the piece of parchment he was currently reading and looked up.

'Ah, excellent!' waved his wand professor. The tests were swept by a mighty gust of wind and on a nearly ballistic speed flew at Lockhart, throwing him out of his chair. Some of the girls gasped and rushed over to help him – Diana Tyler, Ravenclaw and a self-appointed leader of Lockhart fan-club in their year, at the lead – but Lockhart himself managed to stood up just fine, although coughing and trying to catch his breath.

'Sorry, sorry… Overpowered my spell a little…' awkwardly smiled professor, raising his hands in a calming gesture. 'Please, ladies, I am flattered, but there's no need for your help. Gilderoy Lockhart can take care of himself just fine." he winked and picked up the tests, this time by hand.

'Now, then…' Lockhart checked the time, as the girls came back to their seats, scowling. 'Ah, yes, we still have just enough. Would you like to hear another story?'

Without waiting for an answer, he walked in front of his table. 'It happened in…' he stumbled. 'No, I am sorry, it just doesn't work like this. I will need an assistant.' He rose his head and looked over the class. 'A brave soul, that won't be ashamed to play a part of one of the most despicable monsters I have ever faced. Is this person among you?' he asked with a slight smile.

Wayne frowned. All this clowning around must have had a deeper meaning, but he still couldn't see it. Maybe, he was way too quick in declaring himself a detective. Still, he refused to give up and rose his hand – just like at least a half of the students.

'You.' finally decided Lockhart, pointing at Luna, out of all people, and causing an audible groan among the rest of the female first-years. Damian frowned – Luna didn't even put her hand up. Something felt very wrong, but he already got used to the fact, that Lockhart was better than him. So he took a deep breath and, as Luna gracefully walked forward, ran the whole thing through his brain once more. And then once again, since the only result he got was "Her weird style will make him look even more fabulous", and that was just silly.

While Damian was working his way through this brain twister, Luna walked to the improvised stage and turned around. She looked beyond tense, but she relaxed a little after a look at the Gryffindor students, where Ginny had shown her a thumbs up.

'You, miss…' stumbled Lockhart for a moment.

'Lovegood, sir.' answered Luna. 'Will I be the Heliopath Queen?'

'Miss Lovegood.' nodded professor. 'And no. You will be…' he took a dramatic pause, 'The Edinburg Hag! Actually, wait…' he swung his wand and Luna's hair swished into a complete mess. 'There, it should help you feel the role better.'

The students laughed. Luna merely nodded, removing loose strands of hair out of her face.

'Fabulous!' clapped his hands professor, changing his voice a little on the spooky side. 'Now, it happened in November of 1983, in the outskirts of Edinburg, where a disgusting, monstrous hag has been stealing and eating little children. But the peril of brave Welshmen didn't last long…'

Ten minutes later, Damian, for maybe the fourth or fifth time in his life, was feeling confused. He had run every possible scenario in his head, but still hadn't found Lockhart's Master Plan. Not to mention, that Lockhart was incredibly obnoxious on the stage, and by the time Lockhart and the Edinburg Hag finally met, only Lockhart's fan club continued to laugh at his jokes. Even Luna was putting out more believable performance, and she was pretty much being herself.

Finally, the Hag was defeated with a Pulverizing Curse and Luna, with her trademark grace, walked back to her seat. Wayne added the performance to his intel and ran the analysis again. A weird, completely impossible idea started forming in his head as professor gave out homework – to read and write down their impressions on his fight with Count Krasnowsky in _Voyages with Vampires._

Luna was the first one out of the door, almost running, but Wayne paid her little mind. Colin called for him, but Damian shook his head and his friend went to the exit alone. Some of Lockhart's fanclub stuck around to tell their idol how much they loved him, so Damian had to wait until they too were gone, but he had to know for sure.

Finally, they were left alone, and Damian slipped on a mask of a respectful, adoring fan.

'Sir… I just wanted to say that you are amazing and I want to be like you when I grow up!' Damian bit his lip, realising that he overdid it, but Lockhart didn't seem to notice, nodding along with a smile. Seeing that he was safe, Wayne continued. 'I have been a fan of yours since I was five. Sir, could I… Could you show me something?'

'Yes, yes, of course!' smiled Lockhart. 'Anything for my fans! Ask away, mister…'

'Wayne.' quickly said Damian. 'I just wanted to know…' he shyly looked down.

'Yes, yes…' said Lockhart, intrigued.

'Could you show me your duelling stance?'

* * *

Colin Creevey was finishing his dinner, when his Ravenclaw friend sat in front of him, staring straight ahead without blinking.

'Hey, you OK?' asked Colin, feeling a little freaked out by Wayne's glare and his pale face. Damian blinked and curtly nodded. 'Any reason you have decided to sit here?' continued Colin.

'Just wanted to say I'm sorry.' gave him a pained smile Damian. 'It was a long day and I was ignoring you...'

'O-OK…' slowly said Colin, looking at his friend with suspicion. Damian smiled and stood up, reaching over the table and clapping him on his shoulder.

'We cool?' asked Wayne, smiling.

'Yeah.' nodded completely shocked Colin.

'Good.' said Damian, turning to walk away. 'See you later, I guess.'

'Yeah, same to you…' mumbled Colin. Suddenly, he felt something in his chest pocket. As Damian walked to the Ravenclaw table, Creevey pulled out of his pocket a small, folded piece of parchment that he definitely didn't put there. Ensuring that no one was looking at him, Colin slowly unfolded it under the table and looked inside.

"Lockhart is a liar and a fraud." said the parchment. "I have proof, but I will need your help to take him down."

Colin blinked and looked up. Damian was watching him from the Ravenclaw table with the same unblinking stare.

* * *

 **Whoo, boy...**

 **That was a tough one. Lockhart is incredibly hard to write for me - I really want to make him at least a little bit more competent. But I can't, and thus I end up rewriting his scenes over and over (and over and over) again. Hope I did him justice in the end. And yeah - he won't stick around for long anyway. If everything goes according to plan - next week we will have a bunch of timeskips, fall of Lockhart, and a first "hello" from some T. M. Riddle. Overall, exposition is done and it's time to get down to business.**

 **Also, I updated Chapter 2 a little bit, fixing the spelling of "McGonagall". Yeah, I done screwed up. Thank you, anonymous reader. Also, I might revamp it a little at some point, but it's grown on me lately, so I don't know. Let's make it a maybe.**

 **I thank you for your reviews for Chapter 2, and I will reply to them right now. I'm sorry for not doing it earlier, but I was very busy this week. Still - keep them coming. Paraphrasing Brooklyn 9-9, "Terry loves reviews" :)**

 **The working title of the next chapter is "The Clash of Ideals". I will see you there.**

 **With love, farfromrefuge.**


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